


Happy Dog

by deluxemycroft



Series: Snicker verse [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Agender Character, Alternate Universe, Angst, Anxiety, Codependency, Coming Out, Gender-Neutral Pronouns, Genderfluid Character, Hallucifer, Hallucinations, Hurt Sam Winchester, M/M, Miscommunication, Misgendering, Misunderstandings, Platonic Cuddling, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Protective Dean Winchester, Tattooed Sam, Transphobia, Unreliable Narrator, Vampires, codependency to a point where it's weird, comfort stuffed animal, sambenny - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-25
Updated: 2015-04-25
Packaged: 2018-03-25 16:04:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,577
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3816517
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deluxemycroft/pseuds/deluxemycroft
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam and Dean retired after Cas broke Sam's wall. It's been a long journey to this place, but they made it. Sam volunteers at the LGBT center in town and quickly gets a crush on the manager, Benny Lafitte. Turns out even in a small town, people have their secrets.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Happy Dog

**Author's Note:**

> agender sam (he/him), genderfluid benny (they/them).
> 
> read the end notes for specific warnings

He started in the center’s library, paging through various books and flinching whenever someone else walked into the room. It wasn’t a very big place but it had more books than Sam had ever owned. They were all stacked on top of each other and piled in the corners and on top of the narrow bookcases and in an order Sam couldn’t understand. He was of half a mind to go ask the person at the front desk if he could reorganize them; that was probably why no one ever utilized the room, since they couldn’t find anything. Sam had found the center a few weeks ago and spent most of his days in the library and he still couldn’t make sense of how the books were ordered.

It took another week of Sam dodging Dean’s questions on where he went during the day and pretending he was just too busy to go to any of the nightly groups before he finally threw his hands up into the air and made his way to the front desk.

The person there looked a little older than Sam, with a short, greying beard and a gentle-looking pink mouth that Sam found himself looking at more often than not, and a black cap and a warm looking pink sweater. Sam had seen them wear skirts and slacks. Their name was Benny. They softened something terrifying in Sam’s chest in a way no one other than Dean had ever been able to do.

“Hi Benny,” Sam whispered.

Benny twisted around in their chair, gentle mouth curving up in a grin when they saw it was Sam. “You alright? Usually you just skitter in and out.”

Sam nodded, sliding his hand into his pocket and grabbing Snicker’s scarf. “I was wondering…” he took a deep breath and stepped closer to Benny, leaning his hip against the edge of the welcoming desk. Benny stood, a concerned frown creasing their forehead. “The…the library is really…” he trailed off, waving his hand around to try to get his point across. 

Benny chuckled. “Disorganized? Sweetheart, you askin’ if you can reorganize my library?”

Sam nodded, pulling his hand out of his pocket. “There’s no order. The books aren’t even in alphabetical…nothing makes sense.”

Benny didn’t even hesitate. “Aw, hell, I know. Messier ‘n a rats nets in there. Ain’t many folks use the library these days. Internet got a lot more information. And course you can, Sam. Do whatever you think needs done. I’ll even come help; get me off damn desk duty for awhile. If you don’t mind, that is.”

The corners of Sam’s mouth turned up and he quickly ducked his face behind his hair, nodding. “I’d…I’d like that, Benny.” Benny smiled at him and Sam stepped back, looking back over his shoulder. “I’m going…thank you, Benny.”

“Of course, sweetheart. Be on my way to join you soon enough.”

Sam nodded and rushed back to the library, barely stopping himself from slamming the door behind him. Snicker was resting on the biggest table; Sam snatched him up and cradled him to his chest, squeezing his eyes shut and trying not to gag. Something about Benny untwisted something dark and horrible in Sam’s chest. They were always so gentle and understanding and soft.

Sam took a deep breath and put his stuffed dog back on the table, pulling Snicker’s scarf from his pocket and gently re-tying it around Snicker’s neck. He patted his stuffed dog gently on the head and went over to the first bookcase and started the slow process of pulling all the books off the shelves and sorting them into piles.

It wasn’t exactly hard work but it was monotonous. Sam got into a system where he had 26 piles, one for each letter of the alphabet, and he stacked each book into one of them. It would probably take a week for him to get through it all, at least; he wanted to organize by subject, and then within the subjects, organize alphabetically. Some of the books were marked things like ‘Gender Studies’ or ‘Capitalism’ or ‘Racism’ but most of them weren’t. He could get a decent enough grasp on the subject of the book from the summaries of the back covers on some of them, but he was also worried about miscataloging any of them. Benny wouldn’t be bothered but Sam didn’t want anyone to get confused.

Benny was letting him do this and Sam wanted to do it right.

It was almost 5pm by the time Benny came by. Sam felt them before he saw them, and he looked up after a minute to see Benny leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed and a soft smile on their face.

“Lookin’ for help?”

Sam straightened up, pressing a hand to the small of his back. A lot of his joints hurt constantly—doctors couldn’t really do much other than tell him to take pain meds—but his lower back hurt the most. Ever since Dean had made that deal, all those centuries ago, his back always hurt. It hurt even after Cas brought his body back from the cage.

“Dean’s going to be here soon but…yes please.”

Something in Benny’s face closed off but they stepped into the room, looking at what Sam was trying to put together. There were six bookshelves in the room and Sam was trying to put at least two subjects on each bookshelf. There were a lot more books than what would fit on all the shelves, but Sam figured he could put a section or two lined up in the corners that were already being used. It didn’t have to be perfect but he wanted the room more organized.

Benny glanced over the first partially filled bookshelf, pulling out a couple books. “Don’t spend enough time in here.”

Sam swallowed and looked at Snicker, taking a deep breath and stepping up next to Benny, trying not to read over their shoulder. Dean hated it when he did that. “There’s…there’s a lot of good books in here,” Sam whispered, flinching when his voice broke in the middle of his sentence. After Cas had broken his wall, it’d been too grating to raise his voice above a whisper. Sometimes he could do it with Dean, but not all the time.

“Got any favorites? Think you spend more time in here than anyone else.”

Before Sam could answer, his phone dinged. He tugged it out of his pocket and peered at the screen.

_get outside_

Sam smiled and looked around the room, flinching at the mess. “I—I have to go.”

Rough fingers brushed one of the scars on the back of Sam’s hand. Sam looked up to see Benny looking at him, a strangely understanding look in their eyes. Bright pink lips pursed for a moment and then Benny relaxed. “Nobody think you get this all done in a day. Still be here tomorrow.”

Sam nodded and smiled at Benny, rushing to pick up Snicker before pausing a moment in the doorway. He looked back to see Benny glancing through the book they’d picked up. A longing to stay hit Sam in the gut like a cramp. He wanted Benny to lay back on the old, musty armchair in the corner and Sam wanted to curl up against their side, both of them paging through different books, Benny’s hand petting Sam’s hair. Sam wanted to be able to wrap his hands around those strong arms and feel like there was something tethering him to the earth.

Benny didn’t look up to watch him leave. 

Some things weren’t ever gonna be anything other than what they were.

Sam knew that better than anyone else. He didn’t blame Benny for being who they were; anyone with half a mind wouldn’t be interested in Sam. 

He whispered a goodbye and rushed out of the center, ducking his head when he heard Dean yelling at him from the car. Dean was on a tight schedule—he wanted to let Sam stay at the center for as long as possible during the day, but he worked nights and had to pick Sam up and drop him off at home before going to work—and didn’t like when it got messed up.

He slid into his seat and slammed the door shut, leaning into the warm, rough hand Dean cupped his jaw with. After the cage, Sam had spent weeks fluctuating back and forth on whether or not Dean was even real, and they ended up touching in ways they hadn’t before, things Lucifer didn’t know about, to trick Sam’s brain into resetting. It had taken awhile but Dean had gotten to the point where he didn’t care if anyone saw; if it helped Sam then it was something he was gonna do.

Dean’s fingers threaded through his hair and Sam leaned forward to press his cheek to Dean’s shoulder, curling under his big brother’s arm and closing his eyes.

“Want me to take the long way?”

Sam nodded, not trusting his voice. Some days were worse than others. Dean always made it better.

He ignored Dean calling into work, telling them he’d be late since Sam needed him for a while, and just nestled into his brother’s side. Dean’s hand flexed over his heart and then moved up to cradle Sam’s neck. Sam sighed, clutching Snicker tight and holding onto the stone that built the only remaining wall in his head.

Everyone in town knew about Dean’s weird little brother. Some of them thought he had PTSD from being overseas and some thought he was “special”. It wasn’t a huge town—big enough for the LGBT center Sam went to everyday, but everyone in town seemed pretty liberal—but it was small enough that just about everyone Sam saw recognized him. They definitely all knew Dean. Everyone always knew Dean.

He was the quintessential older brother who dedicated his life to taking care of his ailing little brother. The women loved him. If Dean had eyes for anyone other than Sam he could’ve bedded the female population in town twice over. 

Sam smiled to himself and sat up when he felt them hit the pothole at the beginning of their driveway that Dean swore about fixing but never got around to it. The Impala pulled up to their house, Dean grinning at him and leaning over to open the car door for Sam. “Got a short shift tonight, so I should be home by one or so. You gonna stay up for me?”

Sam shrugged. “Not…not sure. Long day.”

Dean looked like he wanted to ask but he grimaced at the time. “Tell me about it later.” Sam nodded and scooted out of the car, holding Snicker tightly to his chest as he shut the car door. “Dinner’s in the oven!”

Smiling to himself, Sam watched Dean drive away. He waited until he heard the tires squeal around the corner and then he went inside their small house.

It was a small, almost-falling-down one-floor house. There was a full kitchen, a wrap-around porch, a big living room with a huge, wall-mounted TV for Dean, and then two small bedrooms. There was a full bath and a half bath off the living room. It was small but they didn’t need anything else.

They’d started out in separate bedrooms. Sam had too many nightmares and too many flashbacks for that to work. Dean had a big, extra long king-sized bed that they shared. Before the cage, it was something they only did out of necessity. Now it was a comfort, something that Sam relied on to know he could make it through the day.

There were a few notes on the fridge. Dean wrote the date on a Post-It and stuck it to the fridge every morning, and if Sam was having a bad day, he’d write a few things that he knew would knock Sam out of a funk. Sometimes he couldn’t even find the fridge to read something Dean had written for him, but those days were becoming rarer and rarer.

Dean had also stuck the dinner instructions on the fridge, with a big yellow sunflower magnet. Dean had bought it after Sam got the sunflower tattooed over his hip. 

_Take out at 6pm. Use the oven gloves. Turn off the oven this time. Let cool for 10 minutes. Save some for me. –D_

Sam checked the time and went back to the bedroom, stripping down to his boxers and catching his reflection in the mirror. He stepped over Dean’s dirty clothes—there must have been a fire last night, they stank like burnt wood—and frowned at himself.

No wonder Benny wasn’t interested. There wouldn’t be anyway they would be. Sam was about three-quarters covered in tattoos, and the rest of him was a mess of rippling burns and scars. From the tips of his right hand all the way up his arm and down to his bellybutton and up to his left clavicle were almost a hundred various runes, protection symbols and sigils. Some of them were burned over or had been cut up. A lot of the rest of his tattoos were ones that reminded him of safe spaces.

Selfishly, he’d gotten Dean’s name tattooed on the fingers of his left hand. Sometimes it was the only thing that could pull him out of flashbacks. When Dean had seen it, he’d palmed Sam’s jaw and pet his hair and looked at him like they were the only two people left in the world. He had a big sunflower on his hip and a tree twining up his left arm, all black and grey with small animals hiding in the roots and the bare branches. There was a caged bird on his left shoulder and Do Not Resuscitate on his chest. The right side of his back had a partially filled in wing that he added a feather to for every person he let down or betrayed. Dean had a lot of feathers. He didn’t know how he’d convinced the artist to do it, but right after Cas had broken his wall, Sam had gone to an artist in town and gotten a few jeweled butterflies framing Jess’s name on his lower back. Dean made fun of him all the time for the butterflies but never mentioned Jess’s name.

His legs were covered in words, but he didn’t like looking much at them. A lot of the quotes were from pre-cage Sam, and Sam barely remembered him. His least favorite one wrapped around his right ankle, right above the matching swallow on his left ankle, that read ‘you are good’. He couldn’t remember being the Sam that knew that with such certainty that he would get it tattooed on his body in thick black ink.

He didn’t remember being the man who believed in himself.

Sam tore his gaze away from the mirror and sighed, trying to clear his head. He grabbed Snicker and pulled on a pair of Dean’s sweats, and one of their old ratty hoodies, and went back to the kitchen.

There were oven mittens right next to the stove. Sam struggled for a minute on where to put Snicker but ended up putting him right next to the sink, glancing over at him before double checking the time—6:01—and turning off the oven. He pulled on the mittens and opened the door, pulling the casserole out and putting it on the counter. 

Sam looked down at it after he put the oven mittens away and closed the oven door. 

It was covered in maggots.

Dean was trying to feed him maggots.

Dean was trying to kill him.

Ergo, Dean was not Dean.

Dean would _never_ \--

Sam gagged, hitting the edge of the casserole dish with his hand and sending it crashing to the floor, and he grabbed Snicker and ran out of the kitchen. He hit the front door and started running. Their property backed up to a massive forest and Sam headed back there. Fake Dean couldn’t catch him if he hid.

Someone was following him. He didn’t know who or what it was, but he didn’t dare look behind him. They were just a step behind him, matching him step for step, breathing heavily in his ear, reaching out to brush the back of his neck with their claws.

He tried not to scream when he tripped over a root and crashed headfirst into the ground, protecting Snicker by holding him carefully to his chest. He felt the skin on his face tear open against the dirt and muck and sticks and stones. Dean’s sweats were probably ruined by now.

Whatever was following him stood right behind him, touching the tips of their shoes to his bare, bleeding feet, and Sam slowly pushed himself to his knees and turned around.

He didn’t look up at their face. It didn’t matter who they were.

“Is…is he dead?”

They snorted and Sam tensed. He knew that voice.

“You already know that one, Sammy.”

“How…how long?”

“You know the answer to that one too.”

He wouldn’t cry. He wouldn’t give in. He would be strong—Sam used Snicker to wipe away his tears. He took a deep breath and looked up at their face.

“Is this real?”

“Of course not. You never left the cage.”

Sam nodded, not trying to stop the tears. He pushed to his feet and hung his head.

He learned long ago he couldn’t get away from Lucifer.

Something echoed in the distance but Sam ignored it. Lucifer held out his hand and Sam just stared at it. Usually once he figured out it was another one of Lucifer’s tricks he was pulled back into the physical cage, and went another round of having Lucifer pull out his bones and have Sam eat them. This was new. 

“I don’t understand,” Sam whispered, and staggered back when a rock hit him in the chest. He leaned back against a tree and squeezed his eyes shut.

It wasn’t real. Nothing he knew was real. Dean wasn’t real. Lucifer wasn’t real.

Sam took a deep breath and slowly let it out. Snicker was real.

“Sam!”

He took another deep breath, counted to five, and exhaled.

Lucifer cleared his throat. “That isn’t Dean, Sammy.”

“I know,” Sam whispered. “But you’re not real either.”

He flicked his eyes open and looked around the forest floor. It seemed strangely dark out; the sun hadn’t even started setting when he took the casserole out of the oven. What time was it? How much time had he lost?

There was a sharp stone resting near his foot. Sam dropped to his knees, tucking Snicker under his arm, and picked up the rock. He looked up at Lucifer and Fake Dean standing next to him, and ignored both of their protests as he lifted the rock and smashed it into the back of his hand.

The burst of pain cleared his mind and Lucifer scowled at him as he flickered away. Sam sighed and looked up at Dean. He stank like fire.

Sam smiled and let the world go dark. Dean would catch him.

//

Benny’s eyes stayed locked on Sam’s cast as he came into the center two days later. It always took Sam a day or two to recover after a really bad episode. Dean took a few days off work, just shaking his head at the doctors when they wanted to give Sam more meds or ask if Sam needed to be kept under suicide watch. He even wanted to go with Sam to the center but Sam stopped him at the front door.

Dean went to the coffeehouse down the street, telling Sam in no uncertain terms that he would be back in two hours and would drag Sam out by his hair if he wasn’t waiting outside for him by then. Sam just grinned and elbowed Dean in the side.

Today was a good day.

Benny looked faintly uncomfortable but Sam just smiled tiredly at them. Benny was wearing red lipstick and a blue long-sleeved blouse and a grey skirt. Sam wanted to pet their calves. They were the most beautiful person Sam had ever seen.

“Busy yesterday?”

Sam waved his cast. He’d ended up breaking a few of the bones in his hand with the stone and had almost needed surgery. “Accident prone,” he replied with a shrug.

Benny nodded, something hesitant in their stance. Sam wanted to ask but didn’t know if he would like the answer.

They stood next to the empty welcoming desk for an awkward few minutes. Sam was white-knuckling Snicker but he couldn’t look away from Benny’s goddamn mouth. He wanted to trace the outline of Benny’s stubbled jaw with the tips of his fingers.

Finally, Benny cleared their throat and stepped out of the way. “Leave you to it, then.”

Sam nodded and ducked his head. He thought Benny was going to help him but apparently not. He’d known he’d disgusted them. It was just a matter of time until Benny asked him to stop showing up everyday like a homeless dog.

Sam took a deep breath and took a few steps before something clicked in the back of his head.

“Can I ask you about something?” Sam whispered. “It’s kind of…”

“Course, sweetheart.” Benny came up next to him and glanced around, leading Sam to the library.

Sam swallowed and took a seat at one of the tables, waiting until Benny sat down next to him before starting. “You’re…you’re genderfluid…right?”

Benny grinned at him. “How could you tell?”

It took Sam a moment to smile slightly back. He cupped Snicker in his lap and stopped himself from reaching out and putting his hand on Benny’s arm. “I don’t think I’m a guy,” he admitted. “I don’t think I’m much of anything.”

It was something that had been niggling the back of Sam’s head ever since he hit puberty. He’d hated all of the vicious changes his body put him through. He hated being tall, towering over everyone around him. He just wanted to be a small, slight person, with nothing outward for anyone to gender him with. He didn’t want to be anything at all.

The first person he ever told was the first person he’d really had a crush on in what felt like centuries.

Benny smiled at him, reaching out a wide hand to cup Sam’s shoulder. “There’s a book on that in here, if ya want Benny to find it for ya. Ever heard of agender? Means lack of gender. That could be you.”

Sam nodded, reaching his hand up to rest it on top of Benny’s. He squeezed Benny’s hand for a long moment before dropping his hand back down to Snicker. “I don’t mind being called ‘he’ but I don’t like being called a boy…or a man…is that…is that okay?”

“Anything is okay, sweetheart. Ain’t any rules.” Benny traced their fingers lightly down Sam’s bicep before taking them back. Sam smiled slightly at them before nodding again and looking down at his lap.

“I should talk to Dean about it.”

Benny stiffened and after a moment, scooted away by an inch or so. Sam hadn’t even realized their knees had been pressed together, and the cold spot felt like it swarmed up from his leg up to wrap around his heart. Did Benny not like Dean? Sam didn’t think they had ever met him, but Dean had probably said something offensive without realizing it. Dean did that a lot.

“Yeah, your…Dean should know. It’s an important part of ya. Think he’ll react fine?”

Sam shrugged. “He…he usually thinks before speaking but after he takes a minute to think about it then he’s fine. He’s just a hothead sometimes.”

Sam looked up to see Benny’s gaze locked on his cast. “Yeah, some guys can be real assholes,” they muttered, and then pushed to their feet. “Wanna work on some books? I’ll find that agender one for ya.”

Oh. He’d thought they were having a…moment, maybe. Sam should’ve known better. He swallowed past a lump in his throat and pushed to his feet, holding Snicker to his chest for a long moment before leaving his comfort animal on the table. 

Sam went to the piles of books and tried to remember the system he’d figured out. He wanted to ask Benny but they looked slightly annoyed. They were rooting through a couple of the stacks Sam had leaned up against one of the walls. Sam tried not to ogle too obviously when they bent over to look at the books closer to the floor.

Blushing, Sam turned to the books he had already put on the first bookshelf. They were obviously alphabetized but he couldn’t figure out what subject.

“Found it,” Benny grumbled, and dropped the book onto the table. “Gonna go back to the front desk. Need anything?”

Sam frowned, turning around. “Oh…okay. I…okay. Thank you.”

Benny nodded at him and stalked out of the room. Sam didn’t watch them go.

He turned back to the books, trying to focus his mind. He squeezed his eyes shut. Someone was breathing down the back of his neck. The room was suddenly cold enough he could see his breath.

Sam slammed his casted hand against the wall.

He nearly screamed as his broken bones ground against each other and sent shockwaves up and down his arm.

But the room was warm again and there wasn’t anyone behind him. 

Sam took a minute to refocus and he turned back to the books, glancing back over his shoulder on the guise of checking on Snicker but double-checking that there wasn’t anyone in the room with him.

All of the books on the shelf had Gender in the title. Sam smiled slightly, rolling his eyes a bit. 

He turned around, getting down on his knees to look through the leaning stacks of books on the floor, singling them out first by the ones with gender in the title and then scanning the summaries on the back covers.

His brain felt like it finally clicked on and he had two more shelves filled before Benny knocked on the doorframe. 

Sam looked up to see Benny in plain slacks with a long white shirt under a black vest. They’d rubbed off the lipstick but there was still a shadow of it. Sam smiled a little. “Oh, you changed. I liked your skirt,” Sam admitted, feeling a bit shy and getting to his feet. “But I like that too.”

Benny gaped at him for a moment before shaking their head and grinning easily at him. “Good thing you like all my clothes, huh, sweetheart.”

Sam smiled down at them for a moment before swinging his head around as a dark shout of his name echoed through the halls of the center. “Dean’s here?” He looked back to see Benny’s face close off and Sam wondered what was wrong. 

“Yeah. Chief out there said you’d _exceeded your daily nerd time_.” Something in Benny’s voice was different, colder somehow, but Sam didn’t take the minute he would need to think about why as he snatched up Snicker and made his way out of the library, throwing Benny a wide goodbye smile.

Behind him, he heard Benny’s breath catch in their throat and Sam wondered why.

Dean was leaning in through the open front door, glaring down the hall at Sam. The receptionist, a blue-haired trans man named Tate, was trying to tell him to quiet down, but Dean was ignoring him.

Dean bellowed Sam’s name again right as Sam walked up to him.

“Dean,” Sam murmured, and his brother straightened up and opened the door for him, grinning.

“Were in that damn place for three hours, Sammy! Damn near lost my mind at that coffee shop.” Dean herded Sam down the front steps and towards the Impala, opening his door for him and winking at him. “Saw that dude with the lipstick—”

“Benny? Benny’s not a dude. They’re genderfluid. Their pronouns are they/them.”

Dean leaned through the passenger side window, frowning slightly. “Not even gonna pretend I know what the hell that means. Whatever.” He tousled Sam’s hair and unfolded himself, walking around the car and sliding in the driver’s seat, slamming the door shut behind him. Dean slung his arm behind Sam’s shoulders after he started the Impala up. “After I get some damn food in me that ain’t shitty coffee pastries, you’re gonna explain to me whatever the hell gender…fluid is. Capiche?”

Sam nodded, leaning his head back against Dean’s arm as his brother drove them out of the parking lot. “Pastries?”

“You shut your fuckin’ mouth,” Dean growled.

Sam rolled his eyes and held Snicker to his chest. He loved his big brother.

They were both quiet for a few minutes, Sam idly watching the familiar houses and landscapes slide by.

“I have news,” Dean finally grunted out. “Ain’t good news.”

Sam sat up, shivering as Dean took his arm back from around his shoulders. “Are you okay? Are you sick? Did you get stressed out taking care of me and your—”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, Sammy. Calm down before you have a heart attack. I’m fine. I swear.” Dean glanced over and met Sam’s terrified gaze. “Everything is okay. It’s somethin’ else.” Dean took a deep breath. “I got asked not to come back to the station. They know I got it rough takin’ care of you, and you always come first, you know that. But they said they gotta have more guys who don’t need so much time off and can work more consistent hours. They gave me four months severance so we’re not too badly off but…I knew you would wanna know.”

Sam nodded, trying to catch his breath. “But I’m…I’m getting better. I don’t have as…as many bad days anymore and”—he held up his casted arm—“these are getting less and less frequent. What…but you need to work!”

“I know.” They pulled into their driveway and Sam winced as the Impala hit the pothole. They were both quiet as they pulled up to their house. “I’ll find something, Sammy, I promise. I ain’t puttin’ you back out on the road. I’m not gonna do that to ya. I’ll find somethin’, I swear.” Dean cupped the back of Sam’s neck and tipped Sam’s chin up with his thumb so their eyes met. “Gonna do right by you, little brother.”

Sam smiled at the only light left in his life.

//

“…and I think I’m agender…that means I don’t really…have a gender. I’m not a guy.”

Dean was obviously struggling with trying to grasp the concept but Sam could see he was doing the best he could. “So you’re not my little brother anymore?”

Sam froze. He hadn’t thought about that. “I…I don’t want to be a man, Dean. But I’ll always be your little brother.”

Dean relaxed and he nodded, stealing some of the mac n cheese from Sam’s half full plate. “So don’t call you a man? But saying…he is okay?”

Sam smiled. “That’s right. Just refer to me as a person, not a man.”

“So that’s similar to what’s up with that other guy? Person?”

Sam nodded eagerly, holding Snicker up to his face. “Benny? They’re genderfluid. Some days they feel more masculine and some days they feel more feminine.”

Dean pointed his fork at Sam and Sam watched in wonder as Dean’s eyes lit up. “You gotta crush, Sammy, big bro can see it.”

Shrugging, Sam looked down at his plate and put Snicker back on his lap. “They don’t like me, though. I don’t even know if they like…masculine people.”

Frowning, Dean stole some of Sam’s chicken, dunking it in ketchup before eating it. Sam grimaced at him. “Look, why don’t you invite Benny out to lunch or somethin’ and I’ll let ya know if he—I mean they like ya. I know that kinda stuff.”

Sam rolled his eyes. “Perv.”

“Trust me, Sammy, I ain’t gonna perv on your queer little dress-wearin’ boyfriend.” Dean looked up to flinch at Sam’s glare. “It’s all new for me, ” Dean tried.

Sam just shook his head, standing up from the table and taking Snicker to the living room. Dean sighed and cleared Sam’s plate, dropping their dishes into the sink and following Sam to the couch.

“I’m sorry, Sammy. I’ll try harder.”

Sam nodded. “I know. I just…they’re such a good person, Dean. They don’t deserve that from you.”

“I’ll try harder.”

Dean dropped onto the couch and grabbed the remote, tossing his right arm over the back of the couch as he turned the TV on. Sam nestled into his side and rested Snicker on Dean’s thigh, quickly falling asleep.

He dreamed of Dean pulling him from the fire.

//

Benny was standing right outside the front door when Sam showed up the next morning, watching Dean walk around the car to open Sam’s door for him. Sam grinned up at him and turned to take Snicker from Dean. Dean told Sam he was going to look for jobs and that he’d probably be back around noon for him.

Sam watched him leave before walking up the stairs and greeting Benny, complimenting their red skirt and flannel. Benny softened and smoothed their skirt down. “Usually don’t wear such bright colors.”

“I like it,” Sam admitted shyly. “What’s it like to wear one?”

Benny shrugged. “Got a couple extra skirts in the back, wanna try one on?”

Sam thought about it for a minute. He didn’t really want Benny to see him with less clothes on—Benny was probably disgusted by his scars already, and seeing his legs would only make that worse—but it probably wasn’t possible for Benny to be less attracted to him. Sam could build up an imaginary ideal relationship with them all he wanted in his head but that didn’t mean it was real or ever would be real. Sam could hope all he wanted for Benny to like him back but that didn’t mean it would even happen. Sam was a lot of things but he wasn’t unrealistic.

“Sure,” he finally conceded, and followed Benny back to the private offices. 

Benny’s office was just what Sam would have expected. It was small and dark, and obviously didn’t get used all that often, and there were a couple anti-capitalism queer posters up on the walls that looked about ten years old. There was an ancient computer on the desk with a thin film of dust across the screen; apparently Benny wasn’t very into technology.

Sam sat in one of the small chairs across from Benny’s desk and watched them dig through a duffle bag and pull out a short, dark blue skirt. Sam shrugged and started pulling off his shoes.

Benny turned bright red. “Are you—you’re going to—I’ll just wait outside.”

Sam put Snicker on the desk and waited for Benny to close the door before pulling off his pants. He forgot sometimes that other people had boundaries with nudity and disrobing. Hell, he’d seen Dean’s dick more times than most girls Dean slept with. His brother had no sense of propriety. Half the time Dean slept naked anyway.

It was weird if someone didn’t understand their relationship. Sam just had to remember that Benny didn’t like him like that. He kept forgetting. It was just so _easy_ with the other person; it felt like Benny filled a slot inside him that Sam didn’t even know was empty. It felt like a part of Sam had been missing and Benny fit into it.

Sam just had to remember that Benny probably thought he was disgusting and sad. What kind a grown man carried around a stuffed dog anyway? Sam sighed at himself and shook his head, standing up to strip off his pants. He was trying to figure out if he should take off his briefs when Benny knocked on the door and poked their head in.

Sam smiled at them, holding up the skirt. “Not quite there yet.”

Benny slammed the door shut. Sam shrugged. He finally ended up pulling the skirt on and grimacing down at it. His briefs showed around the edge; Sam bent over to push the legs of his briefs up as high as they would go. He straightened up to look over his shoulder to see Benny standing in the doorway, gaping at him.

“How…how does it look?” Sam took a few steps towards them. “I don’t think I’m a skirt person.”

Benny swallowed, eyes locked on the skirt. They wouldn’t even look up at Sam’s face—oh. It was probably Sam’s legs. They were mostly covered in long lines of text, from Gandhi quotes to things Dean had told him or things Sam needed to remember. 

“You—you don’t have to look at me, Benny. It’s…it’s okay.”

Benny frowned at him. “What do you mean?”

“I know I’m gross. The scars and the tattoos…they’re not much to look at. It’s alright.”

Benny shook their head, stepping closer and closing the door behind them. “You’re…you look fine, Sam. I like the tattoos, and I don’t mind the scars.”

Sam grabbed Snicker, swaying closer to them. “How does the skirt look?”

Clearing their throat, Benny looked up at him. “Lovely.”

“You should take a picture.”

Benny’s phone was in their hand before Sam could blink. “What’s your number? I’ll text you a copy.”

Sam smiled, reciting his number for them. “I’ll send one to Dean, too. He’ll be pissed if I don’t show him.”

It felt like the warmth of the room vanished and Benny’s entire body froze for a long minute. The softness in their features disappeared and they sent the picture to Sam and grumbled something about putting the skirt back in the duffle when Sam was done with it and they nearly ran out of the office, slamming the door behind them.

Sam honestly didn’t know what he had done that time. He’d never been called lovely before, especially not by someone who ran out of the room right afterwards. It must be Dean. They must not like Dean, for whatever various reason. Sam could think of a lot of reasons someone wouldn’t like Dean.

Slowly, Sam slid the skirt off and unrolled his briefs, stuffing his legs in his jeans and not doing up the zipper. He pulled out his phone as he folded the skirt up and laid it on top of the duffle bag, smiling at the picture of him grinning at the camera wearing a dark blue skirt. It ended right above his thighs, showing off the length of his legs and the strength of his muscles. Sam thought skirts looked better on Benny.

He saved Benny’s number to his phone and then sent the picture to Dean with the caption ‘look at what I’m doing today!’. He did up his pants and slid on his shoes, grabbing Snicker and slowly leaving the office. 

Benny wasn’t anywhere around. Sam felt strangely disappointed, but made his way to the library. He put Snicker on the big table and just spent a minute looking at all the work he had left to do. 

Sam was starting to wonder if maybe he should just tell Benny to have someone else do the organizing. He didn’t want to intrude on whatever tiff Benny had with his brother or start something with them if Benny was really just putting up with him because he had to. Sam didn’t quite understand the logic of letting someone you didn’t like try on your clothes but maybe that’s just the kind of person Benny was. Too nice for their own good, probably.

Sam smiled to himself and started working on the next section of books, getting quickly into the rhythm and breezing through it. He got four entire shelves of books on racism alphabetized before Dean texted him. 

_better be wearin that skirt when you meet me outside!! ;)_

Sam grinned and nearly knocked over a stack of books trying to get to his feet. He grabbed Snicker and nearly bowled Benny over. They were standing in the doorway, a slightly disconcerted look on their face.

“Benny? Dean’s here, I have to—”

Benny nodded, holding up a hand. “I just wanted to let ya know, sweetheart, that I didn’t mean to make ya uncomfortable. I know you’re…with Dean. I…I’m just a lonely old man, I guess.” They flashed a wink at Sam. “Lonely old woman some of the time, too. But I hope we can still be friends.”

The last time Sam had been more confused he’d just been rescued from five thousand years with the devil. “We weren’t friends before?”

Benny blanched. “Sure we were. Just…I had a different idea of the kinda friends we was, that’s all.”

Had Sam really been giving off that bad of vibes that he wanted in Benny’s pants? He wanted Benny to pin him down and be more than friends with him, that was for sure, but Benny was making it very clear that was never going to happen. Sam didn’t know how he’d let it slip that he liked Benny like that, but he was going to make sure it didn’t make them uncomfortable again. He wasn’t one of those kind of people. He’d rather be uncomfortable himself than ever make Benny uncomfortable. Sam absolutely did not understand, but his phone started ringing. “Thanks for letting me try the skirt on, Benny. I really liked it.” He answered the phone and rolled his eyes, lifting Snicker in a shrug.

Benny nodded uneasily at him, moving out of the doorway. Sam moved the microphone away from his mouth and asked them, “Dean wants to know if you want to go to lunch with us?”

Benny froze and then slowly nodded, looking like they were going to their death. “My pleasure.”

“Free tomorrow? Dean says he’ll pick you up.”

It looked like Sam had asked them to walk into a volcano. The last time he had seen someone look so terrified was the last time he looked in the mirror. Dean must’ve already met Benny and said something awful to them. Before Sam could tell Benny they absolutely didn’t have to agree to anything, they nodded and told Sam they could meet them out front of the center at noon.

Benny gave him an uneasy smile and stalked down the hall towards their office. Sam told Dean he would be out in a minute and hung up his phone, walking towards the entrance. He paused at the welcome desk and shyly said hi to Tate. Tate winked at him.

“Boyfriend out there looks a little impatient, Sam,” Tate drawled, motioning towards Dean leaning against the hood of the Impala, glaring at the front doors of the center. “He one of those jealous types?”

Sam chuckled. “Oh, he’s real jealous. But he’s not my boyfriend.”

“Buddy, if that’s not your boyfriend then he’s your husband.” Tate even lowered his phone to look at Sam, one perfect eyebrow raised. “I know relationships when I see them.”

Sam shrugged. “Not my husband, either. Dean’s my brother.”

Tate burst out laughing and looked like he was going to gag at the same time. “Who the hell has that kind of relationship with their brother!?”

“What kind of relationship? I’ve…been through a lot of stuff and Dean was the only one there for me. Just because we’re a little close…” Sam trailed off. Did Benny think he and Dean were dating? Is that why Benny looked so uncomfortable whenever Sam mentioned Dean?

Could it actually be possible Benny was jealous? Could they be thinking that Sam was dating Dean? The thought made Sam shiver but he didn’t dare think it could actually be true. 

Tate was still laughing. “I can’t believe we’ve all thought he was your boyfriend! Hell, I know some girls who would’ve been all over him if they thought he was single.”

“Dean doesn’t date. Says I’m too high maintenance,” Sam muttered, ignoring Tate squawking, “and you say you’re _not_ dating!?” as he tried to go through all of the times he and Benny had been getting along so well and then all of sudden Benny had shut down. Sam had just assumed it was because he’d been too forward or Benny had realized how much of a garbage disposal of a person he was, but maybe…just maybe…

Sam smiled down at Tate and wished him a good day, darting out to the Impala and grinning at Dean.

“Wearin’ skirts now, baby bro?”

Today was a good day.

//

Sam woke up in the morning with a black eye and his lower lip cracked and bleeding. He tasted blood and froze, squeezing his eyes shut and pressing harder into Dean’s embrace. He was going to tell Benny today that he was single, that he wasn’t dating his brother. He was going to take a chance on someone today. Today had to be a good day.

Someone was breathing down the back of his neck and Sam whimpered Dean’s name, feeling his brother’s arms tighten around him and pull them closer. Sam licked his lips again and counted to ten, tapping up and down Dean’s bicep.

“Christ, calm the hell down,” Dean groaned, wrapping an arm around Sam’s waist and pressing his forehead to Sam’s shoulder. “He’s not real. Go back to sleep.”

“Dean,” Sam whispered. “I’m bleeding.”

“Time of the month so soon?” Dean grumbled, leaning his head back to peer blearily at Sam’s face. “Hell you do to yourself?”

“Did I go for a walk yesterday? I don’t remember any lost time…”

“You didn’t even have nightmares. It ain’t even 8 yet. Go back to sleep.”

“Dean…” Sam protested, but quieted down once he bit down hard on his lower lip and the breathing on the back of his neck and the uncomfortable presence he felt behind him vanished. He shifted around and tucked his head beneath Dean’s chin, wrapping Snicker in his arms.

Maybe he had fallen off the bed in his sleep. Maybe Dean had been the one with the nightmare last night and he’d socked Sam a good one when he tried to wake him up. Maybe Sam had gotten up for some water in the middle of the night and banged his eye on their weird medicine cabinet. Maybe he’d punched himself. Maybe Lucifer had assumed a corporeal form and stuffed enough of Sam’s own meat into his mouth that his mouth had split open.

Sam fell back asleep thinking of the possibilities.

He woke up to Dean masturbating next to him.

He smacked Dean with a pillow and jumped out of bed. “You can’t do that in the bathroom?”

Dean leered up at him. “Warm in the bed, Sammy.” Sam could see his hand moving under the covers. Sam rolled his eyes and grabbed Snicker, slamming the bathroom door behind them.

“You get any come on the bed, you have to do laundry!” Sam yelled and turned on the shower, stripping down as he frowned at himself in the mirror.

He’d probably banged his eye on the nightstand or something. Sam shrugged, leaning Snicker up against the faucet and climbing into the shower. He could hear Dean theatrically groaning from the bed and he snorted. No wonder everyone thought they were dating. They practically were married.

Sam scrubbed down and washed his hair, ignoring when Dean banged the bathroom door open and brushed his teeth and did his hair. Dean made a couple jokes about Sam jacking off in the shower but went quiet when Sam didn’t engage him.

Sam finally shut the shower off, twisting his hair up in a towel and wrapping another around his waist. He grabbed Snicker and left the bathroom, watching Dean tuck his shirt in and button up his jeans.

“I think Benny thinks we’re dating.”

Dean didn’t miss a beat. “You and me?”

Sam nodded, sitting on the edge of the bed. Dean grabbed his boots and sat next to him, their arms and thighs pressed together. “I don’t know how to tell them we’re brothers without making it sound ridiculous.”

“Tell them I almost came on your stomach this morning. That’ll do it.”

“Dean, gross!” Sam jumped up and glared down at his brother, who just winked at him and bent over to pull on his boots. “I’m serious!”

Dean tied his right boot and then looked up to see the look on Sam’s face. He sighed and straightened up. “Sammy, you’re right. It’s gonna be weird no matter how you phrase it. I’ll call you brother as many times as possible to get the point across, alright?”

Sam nodded. “I don’t want to make them feel bad.” He dug through the drawers and dropped his towel, pulling on briefs and a shirt. 

“I’m gonna go make coffee. You good in here?”

Sam glanced into the corners, flexing the fingers of his casted hand, and nodded. He didn’t feel anything and he could see Snicker. “I want some toast.”

“As you wish, baby brother.”

Sam rolled his eyes.

//

Benny ended up meeting them at the café. They’d texted Sam saying that they were really busy but could meet him and Dean at around one. Sam had just sent back a couple smiley faces and had rolled his eyes at Dean trying to steal his phone.

They’d gotten to the café about twenty minutes early because Dean said he wanted to see what kind of car Benny drove. It was some kind of macho stance that didn’t make much sense to Sam, given that Benny wasn’t a man…but he just went with it. Dean was trying. That’s what mattered, in the end. They sat outside in the café’s fenced in seating area.

Dean tasted Sam’s coffee to test the temperature—Sam’s tongue was heavily scarred and he had a hard time feeling anything other than extreme cold or extreme heat—before handing it to him. He dropped into the seat next to Sam and swung his arm over the back of Sam’s chair. 

Sam held Snicker against his stomach and he drank his coffee and read a couple news articles on his phone. They hadn’t hunted in a couple years but he liked to see if there was anything in the area. 

“Sammy, you’re not gonna find nothin’. You know what Bobby said.”

Grumpily, Sam put his phone away and turned to glare at Dean. “Just because he laid down some blessed salt and iron track around the town doesn’t mean something couldn’t sneak through.”

“Somethin’ hasn’t _snuck through_ in three years.”

“We’ve—three years? I thought it was only two.”

Dean shifted uncomfortably and pulled his arm back from around Sam’s shoulders. He twisted his coffee cup around in his hands and didn’t look at Sam. “You lose a lot of time, Sammy. Even now you tend to lose an hour or so a day. You just…space out. We’ve talked about this before.”

It felt like the world had shifted on its axis. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d lost time. “Really?” he whispered. “I don’t…”

“It’s fine, Sammy. We have a handle on it. You usually do it in the mornings anyway.”

Sam nodded, quietly rubbing Snicker’s scarf and looking down at his lap. Maybe Benny knew they weren’t brothers and that wasn’t the problem with him. Maybe Benny knew all about how big of a freak he was and that was why they were staying away. Sam would be surprised if Benny even show—

“Look chipper. Your…guy’s here.”

Sam elbowed Dean and looked up to see Benny, dressed in plain khaki slacks with a simple white, long-sleeved shirt under a black vest. There was a simple black cap on their head. Sam’s heart skipped a beat.

Benny motioned at the inside of the café and held up a finger before going inside. Sam squirmed in his seat but didn’t go inside. Dean snorted at him. “Keep it in your pants.”

Sam went to put Snicker on the table but decided he didn’t want to give Benny a reminder of exactly who he was. 

Benny came outside a couple minutes later and greeted Sam with a soft smile. After introducing themselves, Benny took the seat across from Sam and Dean and stared at Sam’s black eye for a long minute.

“I don’t know what happened,” Sam said, answering Benny’s unasked question, motioning towards his eye. “Must’ve banged it on something.”

Nodding, Benny’s gaze flicked between Dean and Sam for a moment before they turned their attention to Dean. “So what do you do for a living?”

Dean frowned a bit. “Between jobs right now. Got fired from working at the station—”

“Station?”

“Fire station. I was a firefighter for…” Dean looked at Sam, the skin between his eyebrows wrinkling as it did when he was thinking hard. “A year? Two years? Don’t hold down jobs for very long.”

Benny nodded understandingly. “What are you planning on now?”

“Not quite sure. I’m only good at a few things,” Dean admitted, leaning back in his chair and taking another drink of his coffee. “I can fix cars and shoot guns and pull people out of fires. Not much else.”

Benny glanced at Sam and slowly replied, “One of the donors to the center owns Miller’s Mechanics, off 8th and Peach Street. You say you’re good with cars; I’ll give him a call. See if he needs any help.”

Both Dean and Sam stared at them in shock. “Really?” Sam breathed. “You don’t…Dean needs to work. He has to have something to do. You don’t know how much this means…” He came around the table and wrapped his arms around Benny, closing his eyes and pressing his forehead to the area between Benny’s neck and shoulder. 

Benny let out a long, nerve-wracking sigh into the side of Sam’s head and nodded. “Always happy to help.” 

Grinning at them, Dean shook his head. “That’s a real help, buddy. Hell, even just puttin’ in a good word for me, I really appreciate it.”

Taking their arms from around Sam and slowly sitting back down, Benny shrugged, tugging off their cap and twisting it between their hands. Sam scurried back to his seat, picking Snicker up from the floor from where he’d fallen. 

“So do you just run the center, then, Benny?” Dean queried.

Nodding, Benny sipped at their coffee before replying, “My title is occupational manager. Oversee the day-to-day operations and hiring and firing, finance, all that boring stuff. Got a lot of volunteers that I do some of the interviewing of. Help folks like Sam figure themselves out. It’s a good job.” Benny looked between Sam and Dean for a long moment before continuing, “Spent a long time as a short-order cook at a diner before getting hired on as a chef for a fancy businessman’s yacht. Done a lot of things before really figurin’ myself out.”

Dean made a thoughtful sound. The three of them were quiet for a few comfortable minutes before Dean said, “Sammy here went to college. Stanford. His girlfriend died and we went on a five year long road trip. Figured out a lot of stuff about ourselves. We work a lot better together than apart, that’s for sure.”

Suddenly, Benny looked incredibly uncomfortable, and they cleared their throat and checked their watch. “Maybe I should be going.”

Sam looked up from his lap where he’d been petting Snicker. “Did we say something? You don’t have to go anywhere.”

Dean frowned at Benny as they waved towards the small space between the two brothers. “I don’t want to interfere with what you two got goin’ on. I’ve made my mistakes, but I don’t want to push anyone apart.”

Sam tried to speak up but Dean shushed him. “Buddy, calm down. You ain’t gonna push me and Sammy apart. What are you thinkin’ you’re doin’, exactly?”

Benny looked at Sam with soft, sad eyes. “I really like you, Sam. It’s been a long time since I felt like someone clicked with me as well as you do. But you’re with Dean, and I’m not gonna interfere with that. I swear. Ain’t that kinda person. I’ll be just as happy bein’ friends.”

“With Dean?” Sam parroted. “Dean’s my _brother_.” Suddenly, he remembered what Tate had told him at the center the night before and it made sense. His memory wasn’t linear and it was pretty spotty; he forgot a lot. Smiling, Sam repeated himself. “Dean is my brother. Tate told me…that people thought we were dating, but Dean’s just my dumb big brother.”

Benny was speechless. Sam smiled shyly at them as Dean interjected, “I know Sammy and I are close. Real close. Our mom died when I was four and our dad raised us on the road. We never had anyone else.” Dean wrapped a hand around the back of Sam’s neck and Sam relaxed slightly, turning his head to watch the expressions flash across Dean’s face as he continued, “Sam’s been through some real rough stuff. I know you can tell that. Anyone who spends five seconds with him can see that. But he really likes you, Benny. And I want him to be happy.”

Nodding, Benny looked at Sam and their gazes locked. Dean snorted, standing up and muttering something about chick flick moments. He went into the café after reaching across the table and good-naturedly slapping Benny’s shoulder and shaking their hand, and Sam slowly traced his gaze over Benny’s gentle face.

“You really thought Dean and I were dating?” He made a face. “Gross.”

They shook their head. “You two are just so close…and he touches you all the time. You even got his name tattooed on your hand.” Benny cleared their throat. “Hell, before I met him I thought he was hurting you.”

“Dean wouldn’t!”

Benny nodded, holding up their hands soothingly. “I know, sweetheart. You jus’ got hurt about once a week, an’ I’ve seen folks get hurt like you be in some bad spots. I was just worried about you. But knowin’…knowin’ he ain’t and that you’re free—you wanna go to dinner with me? At my place. I’m a real good cook.”

Sam smiled at brightly as he was capable, nodding rapidly as he reached across the table to touch one of Benny’s hands. “I would love it,” he replied, and turned his smile on Dean when he came back outside.

“You two lovebirds figure it out?” Both Sam and Benny nodded. “Good. Sammy, we gotta run.”

Benny walked them back to the Impala and opened the passenger door for Sam. Carefully, they picked up Sam’s scarred, barely functional right hand and stroked their thumb across the deep, rippling scars across the back of it. Sam’s heart shivered.

“I’ll text you,” Benny murmured, and reached up to push Sam’s hair out of his face. Sam smiled gently at them and rolled his eyes at Dean turning on the radio and switching to a love song.

Holding Snicker to his chest, Sam slid inside the Impala and waving goodbye to Benny.

“Why did we have to go?”

“You couldn’t tell?”

Sam turned around to look at Dean. He was furious.

“Dean, I didn’t do anything…”

Sharp green eyes flicked over Sam and the anger in Dean’s shoulders slowly loosened until he didn’t look like he was going to beat the shit out of Sam. “I don’t blame you, Sammy. You’re not…you’re not who you used to be.” Dean sighed and shook his head. “That doesn’t matter. You’re just a bit slower, that’s all. That’s why you didn’t notice.”

“Notice what?”

“Benny’s a vampire, Sammy.”

//

“There’s no proof they’ve ever hurt anyone.”

“Not proof they ain’t hurt anyone.”

Sam rolled his eyes. “I read the news once a day and there’s no reports of anyone missing. No reports of suspicious or mysterious injuries. No animal deaths or even missing animals. If they really are a vampire—I’m not saying you’re lying, Dean—then they must be getting blood from somewhere, but I haven’t seen where.”

Dean was cleaning his machete that he kept in the nightstand. “When are you two having dinner?”

“Tomorrow. At 7pm.”

Dean nodded, not looking up at Sam. “Good. You’ll go to that and I’ll sneak around back and come in. Bring some rope to tie them up with. If they’re not hurtin’ folks then we can make sure they know there’s people who are gonna keep them from feeding on anyone. I know you like them, Sammy, but that doesn’t mean they’re not still a monster.” Dean looked up and met Sam’s worried gaze. “I know, Sam. If they don’t drink human blood then we don’t kill them, but I don’t see the harm in puttin’ a little fear into their heart.”

“Dean…don’t hurt them. Benny wouldn’t hurt me.”

Dean swallowed and dropped the machete on the table, getting up and standing between Sam and the corner Sam kept glancing over at. “I know you trust them, Sammy. I’m not gonna try to hold that over your head like Ruby. You didn’t know any better. But I gotta take care of you, Sammy. Now just look at me. Whatever you’re seeing isn’t real.”

Sam took a deep breath and looked away from Lucifer knitting a scarf out of intestines in the corner and up at Dean’s earnest face. “I don’t want to lose them,” Sam admitted. “But I won’t date them if you say not to.”

Dean shook his head. “I know you won’t, Sammy, and I’m not trying to pull you two before you’ve even done anything. I just gotta make sure you’re safe.”

Sam nodded and stood up, taking his bowl and glass to the sink. “I think I’m going to go to bed.”

Nodding, Dean replied, “I’ll be in in a bit. Leave the light on if it’s gonna be a bad night.”

Sam silently agreed, holding Snicker to his chest and keeping his eyes on his feet. He didn’t know what to think about Benny being a vampire. He trusted Dean; Dean might’ve not gone on a hunt in a couple years but he wasn’t too rusty to mistake a person for a vampire. Sam knew that. He just hadn’t expected it at all. There hadn’t been anything in Benny that would’ve caused Sam to suspect they were anything other than human.

Sam took a deep breath. He didn’t want to think about Benny being a vampire. Just the thought of it hurt his head.

Someone breathed down the back of his neck and Sam’s pulse jack-rabbited up, sweat breaking out on his forehead and arms. He lowly called Dean’s name and stood at the bottom of their bed, holding Snicker out in front of him and staring resolutely at him. Lucifer could breathe on him and cut himself open and do whatever he wanted but Sam wasn’t going to look at him.

Dean stomped into the room and swarmed Sam, helping him undress and slide underneath the covers. Less than a minute later, Dean was warm against Sam’s back, one arm around Sam’s waist. Gently, Dean coaxed Sam’s eyes shut and pulled out Sam’s phone to turn on a bit of music. It was just loud enough to drown out Lucifer’s low hisses. Dean turned off the lights and tangled his legs with Sam’s.

“You’re a good boy, Sammy,” Dean whispered.

“M’not a boy,” Sam grumbled, and smiled slightly when Dean snorted in his ear. 

“You’re a good person,” Dean rectified, and curled his chin over Sam’s shoulder. “Not gonna let anyone hurt you.”

Dean fell asleep within minutes but Sam stayed awake deep into the night, staring into the darkness, pretending he couldn’t sense Lucifer moving around their room. Snicker stayed clasped tightly in Sam’s arms, Sam unwilling to let him go for a second.

//

Sam knocked on Benny’s front door, his right hand white knuckling around Snicker. Benny quickly opened the door, wearing a soft purple blouse over black slacks, and Sam smiled shyly at them, slipping inside the house when Benny invited him in.

Benny had a nice house. It was small but neat and well taken care of, and there was something delicious cooking in the kitchen. The walls were grey and Sam liked it. He followed Benny through the living room and took a seat at the kitchen table, watching Benny stir a pot what smelled like shrimp and noodles.

Benny brought Sam a glass of water and sat across the table from him. They looked at each other for a few long moments before Benny smiled and asked, “So how much did your brother make fun of me for thinking y’all were together?”

Sam reached one of his hands across the table and laced their fingers together. “About as much as you’d expect. He thinks everything is funny.”

“Probably gonna hear about this for the rest of your life, huh?” Benny jested, tossing Sam a wink.

“Yeah, Dean’s not the best at letting stuff go. But he’s a good brother. Practically raised me.”

Benny made a questioning sound and Sam tried to elaborate. “Once Dean got to be around ten or so, our dad started going on longer…trips. He’d leave us in motel rooms for a couple days or a week and I wouldn’t be allowed to leave. I got used to it pretty quick but Dean was always a bit claustrophobic. He’d always run out for a couple hours every now and then. Sometimes he would come back with food…” Sam trailed off when he noticed a dark shadow pass over the window over the sink. Dean couldn’t even give them fifteen minutes together?

Benny was nodding in understanding. “I had a bit of a rough childhood too,” they admitted, patting Sam’s hand and standing up to stir the big pot. “Folks weren’t around much, and my dad was real quick with his fists. Never really had anyone be nice to me until I ran off at sixteen. Met this big guy named Saul who taught me to flip a burger and cook. Turned out I was pretty good at it.”

They turned and looked at Sam, smiling a bit. “Had this girlfriend, Andrea, for a long time. She died a while ago. Figure we’d get out in the—”

“Turn off the stove,” Dean growled from the doorway, machete in one hand and a stake dipped in dead man’s blood in the other. He had a bag slung over one of his shoulders. Benny’s nostrils flared and they froze.

“You know what you’re doin’, Dean?” Benny rumbled, suddenly looking dark and furious. Sam flinched, getting up from the kitchen table as Dean herded Benny to the seat Sam had occupied. Dean pulled rope from his bag and quickly tied Benny up.

Dean took the seat across from Benny and tapped his knee with the machete. “You ever heard of the Winchester brothers?”

Recognition flashed across Benny’s face and they froze. “You’re…Sam and Dean Winchester?”

Sam nodded sullenly, while Dean grinned, showing all his teeth.

“That’s us. You heard about what happened to Sammy, then. You get why he’s a little wacked out?”

Benny swallowed, gaze desperately flicking between Sam and Dean. “We heard he fell into Hell. Lucifer’s cage. And you shacked up with some chick with a kid.”

“Did you hear he came back?”

Benny dropped their fangs, baring their teeth at them. “If you’re gonna kill me, just do it. I ain’t got time for this.”

Sam jumped between them, back to Benny and holding Snicker under his arm so he could hold out his arms to Dean. “You said you’d make sure—”

“You knew about this, Sam?” Benny snarled. “You let him do this to me?”

Sam flinched away, moving closer to the fridge so he could see both of them. Dean had a nasty smirk on his face that Sam hadn’t seen in a very long time. It made the scars on Sam’s arms twitch. Benny looked alternatively betrayed and furious.

“I couldn’t stop him!” Sam defended. “My…my only other option was not to come and let him corner you without me here.”

Dean snorted, bringing attention back to him. “We’re here to talk to you, Benny. We know you’re a vampire. I’m happy to let you live but we need proof you haven’t hurt anyone.”

Benny motioned with their chin to the fridge. “Look in there. All you’ll find are blood bags. I get them from a vampire blood bank in the city. Haven’t bit anyone in ages. Ain’t plannin’ on it neither. Now untie me and get the hell out of my house.”

Sam tried not to tear up. He knew it was his fault. He could’ve warned Benny but he didn’t. He nodded and waited for Dean to be satisfied so they could go. He should’ve known that Benny wouldn’t do anything. Stupid Sam with his stupid brain.

Grinning nastily, Dean got up and checked the fridge. Like Benny had said, it was stocked with blood bags and a couple bags of food that Dean assumed were for their dinner tonight. He suddenly realized he’d probably wrecked Sam’s chances with Benny and shook his head, sheathing his machete and putting his stake into his bag.

Carefully, he untied Benny and let them stand up. “I didn’t have a choice,” he told them, and herded Sam out of the house. “Had to keep him safe.”

Benny glared at them as they left, ignoring Sam’s tearful apology. Benny should’ve known better than to get involved with strangers.

//

It was Dean who decided he would go talk to Benny. Sam was moping around the house, leaving Snicker in strange places and then forgetting about him, having small panic attacks when he couldn’t find the stuffed dog. It was miserable to watch. The most stressed Sam got, the more time he lost and the worse his hallucinations got.

Dean finally cornered Sam in their walk-in closet and had him lay down underneath all their clothes, covered him with a weighted blanket and Snicker in his arms. Sam settled down and watched Dean for a long time with wide, teary eyes, but refused to say anything. He went quiet like that when he was disappointed in Dean but didn’t want to say why.

It was after Sam fell asleep that Dean snuck out of the house, leaving Sam a note on the fridge that he would be back in a bit if he happened to wake up. He had to go talk to Benny; it wasn’t right, what Dean had done. They could’ve just asked Benny about it; they seemed like a decent enough person that if Sam had been open about being a hunter that Benny probably would’ve told him anyway. It wasn’t fair to Benny to have done it like that.

He pulled up to the center and sat in the Impala for a minute, centering himself, before going inside and asking the blue-haired kid at the front desk for Benny.

The kid paged Benny to the front desk and Dean found himself a little nervous. He realized he probably should’ve rehearsed what he wanted to say, beyond ‘I’m sorry I threatened to kill you in your own house please don’t blame Sam’.

Benny came around the corner and Dean couldn’t stop raising an eyebrow at them. They were wearing a knee-length black skirt and dull yellow blouse and pink lipstick. Huh. Sammy really hadn’t been lying about the funny gender stuff then.

Dean held his hands up as Benny stopped a few yards from him. “I’m safe and I’m alone.” He glanced at the blue-haired kid and grimaced. “Wanna talk outside?”

Benny frowned at him. “Not particularly,” they replied, but led Dean back out to the parking lot. “I’m about ten seconds away from tearin’ your ugly head off, chief,” Benny barked, crossing thick arms over their broad chest, and Dean held his hands up again.

“I’m here to apologize for that. I was way outta line. I shoulda just taken you aside and asked. Sam says I get ahead of myself sometimes.

“I don’t care what you think about me, buddy. I care what you think about Sam. Sam’s a good kid. He’s been through more than anyone can fathom and he’s made it out. I don’t know how. He wants more tattoos but doesn’t have any space for them. He does what I say because he can’t function without me around. I know that as well as I know my own damn name. You can hate me all you want. But you gotta give Sammy another chance.”

Dean rubbed the back of his neck and didn’t look at the vampire for a long minute but then looked over to see them bitterly smiling at him.

“I ain’t mad at Sam. I’m of half a mind to tear your head from your shoulders and tear you apart. Wouldn’t do that to Sam though. I’ll give Sam all the chances he wants, but I don’t want shit to do with you, Dean. You understand me?”

Dean nodded. “Not a fan of you, either,” he admitted. “But Sammy likes you and you’re a good person. Even if you wear skirts.”

Benny snorted, shaking their head. “Sam likes the skirts.”

Dean grinned, relaxing against the side of the Impala and pulling out his phone. He pulled up the picture of Sam in a skirt and handed it over. “You the one who got him to wear that? Damn impressive. Shows his legs off real well.”

Benny chuckled while looking at the picture of Sam, smiling at it. They handed Dean’s phone back after a minute, shrugging. “He wanted to try one on. I always keep a spare change of clothes in my office.”

“I’ve been tryin’ to get him to branch out for years and you do it in just a couple weeks of knowin’ him.” Dean shook his head, grinning at the vampire. “You got some special vampire magic?”

Benny just shrugged. “That’s for Sam to know and you to wait until he tells you.”

Dean burst out laughing, reaching out to punch Benny on the shoulder. Benny smiled a bit, shaking their head. “Guess you do know him.”

“Spend enough time with someone in a library and there’s a lot you’ll learn.”

Dean nodded, looking up at the center. “He’s a better person because of this place, y’know. Didn’t think a funny lookin’ building with a bunch of uh…different kinds of folks in it could change him like that, but it has. Never gonna say this again, but you’ve helped him a lot. Even for an ugly old vampire.”

“Suppose I can take that as a compliment from Sam’s ugly older brother,” Benny shot back. They grinned at each other and then Dean checked the time, muttering about getting back to Sam.

“Send him a text or somethin’ in a bit. Don’t think you should tell him I came by,” Dean told them, then nodded a goodbye and went around to the driver’s seat. “Feel free to come by the house if you ever need anythin’. If Sam’s datin’ someone they’re welcome at home anytime.”

Benny smiled and thanked him, and stood in the parking lot until Dean drove off.

He stopped by the grocery store to get some cans of chicken and rice soup to have an excuse for why he was out of the house before heading back. Sometimes, little brothers didn’t need to know what their big brothers had been up to.

Sam was still in the closet, fast asleep, drooling all over Dean’s favorite shirt. Dean just grinned at him and shut the closet door, going back to the living room and dropping down on the couch. He turned on some boring Lifetime movie and quickly fell asleep.

Dean woke up a couple hours later to Sam crouching down next to the couch and whispering his name. “You alright?”

Sam grinned up at him. “Benny just texted me!”

“What’d they say?”

Sam put Snicker on Dean’s chest and then looked down at his phone, reading of the screen, “’I’m not mad at you. Still pissed at your brother. Want to have dinner at your place tomorrow so he can keep an eye on me?’ Winky face.”

Dean groaned and sat up, palming the back of Sam’s head after he twisted around to put his feet on the floor. Sam rested his head on Dean’s thigh and brought his hand up to wrap it around Snicker. “You’re tellin’ me that creepy vampire sent you a winky face? Jesus Christ.”

“I know! And they’re not creepy, Dean,” Sam whined. “They’re perfect.”

Dean sputtered, “Good Lord you’re gay. Now get up and let me make you some soup.”

Sam jumped up and grabbed Snicker before bounding into the kitchen. Dean watched him go, shaking his head. Sammy had always been a weird goddamn kid.

//

Sam had spent all day cleaning the house. Dean had vacuumed all the rugs because the noise of the machine still bothered Sam a lot, but other than that, Sam had spent all day sweeping and scrubbing and getting everything as clean as their run-down house could get. He’d even given Snicker as much of a bath as a stuffed animal could get and was now sitting at the kitchen table watching Dean pull baked mac n cheese out of the oven and double checking the chicken he’d boiled. Benny was bringing over a bag of blood for themselves but Sam still felt bad they couldn’t feed them.

The doorbell rang and Sam nearly fell over in his chair. Dean chuckled at him and waved Sam back into his seat.

“Don’t want you to have a heart attack. I’ll let them in then go hang out in the bedroom.”

Sam frowned, getting up and following Dean. “You won’t even eat dinner with us?”

Dean shrugged as he reached the front door. “Sure I will.” He opened it and stepped out of the way so Benny and Sam could smile shyly at each other. 

Sam tucked Snicker under his arm before reaching out and taking the small cooler Benny had brought with them and handing it to Dean, and then he accepted the hug Benny offered him, wrapping his arms around the vampire’s waist and holding on as tight as he was able.

Dean chuckled lowly at them and went to put Benny’s cooler in the kitchen.

Something empty in Sam’s chest filled with Benny’s arms around him.

After Sam pulled back from Benny he looked down at the vampire and grinned. “Dean’s joining us for dinner, if that’s alright.”

Benny stepped inside the house and shut the door behind them. Sam took a step back and tried to keep his jaw from dropping at Benny’s low cut blouse and the thick hair curling over the edges of their shirt. Sam wanted to lick it.

“Of course it’s—see somethin’ you like, sweetheart?”

Sam blushed and herded Benny towards the kitchen, dropping Snicker on the back of the couch in the living room. He motioned down the hallway and quietly said, “Our bedroom is down there. It’s not a very big house.”

Benny shrugged and looked around. “My house ain’t nothin’ to write home about neither, sweetheart. Looks nice enough to me.”

Sam smiled and waved Benny into the kitchen, blushing at Dean’s knowing look. Benny pulled out a chair for Sam and then asked Dean if he needed any help. Dean waved Benny off and pulled out a couple plates, spooning Sam some mac n cheese and a few sliced pieces of chicken. 

Benny opened their cooler and pulled out a bag of blood. “Either of you mind? I can put it in a glass if that’s more comfortable.”

Dean looked slightly uncomfortable but kept his mouth shut when Sam said it was alright. Benny winked at Sam and came around the table to sit next to Sam while Dean took the seat across from them, his plate loaded with at least twice as much food as Sam’s.

Dean handed Sam a spoon and pointedly didn’t watch Benny drink from the blood bag, but struck up conversation about Sam studying law when he had gone to Stanford.

Sam didn’t remember much of Stanford and said as such. He remembered the emotions surrounding Jess but could barely remember what she looked like.

Dean didn’t miss a beat and described her as short and pretty, with blond hair and a nice ass. Benny snorted and shifted slightly in his seat to press his knee to Sam’s thigh.

“Had a girlfriend named Andrea. She was prettier than the moon,” Benny admitted. “She died over 60 years ago—”

“So no competition, Sammy,” Dean interjected, mouth full of half chewed chicken. Sam made a disgusted face at him and looked back at Benny.

“But she had long, dark hair and real pretty hazel eyes. One of the sweetest people I’ve ever bet.” Benny frowned for a moment. “Well, guess Sam’s sweeter than her.”

Giggling, Sam blushed and pushed his food around his plate. “I don’t think I’m that sweet,” he admitted.

Both Benny and Dean groaned. “Sam, you’re like the personification of sugar. Hell, you can be a ruthless son of a bitch, but nowadays? You’re like hanging out with a chocolate bar,” Dean told him, pointing at Sam with his fork for emphasis.

Sam felt like his cheeks were on fire. He wasn’t anything special. Benny sucked down an extra long swallow of blood and Sam watched their throat work. Benny winked at him and leaned back in their chair. “I think you’re plenty sweet, sweetheart. Sure do smell sweet.”

Dean groaned and stood up. “I’m going to the bedroom. You two are gonna give me cavities.”

Benny smirked at Sam once they heard the bedroom door slam shut. “Your brother is somethin’ else.”

Nodding in agreement, Sam finished his mac n cheese and dropped his spoon, grabbing his chicken with his hands and pulling it apart. “He’s a good guy. Just rough around the edges, I guess.”

“He obviously cares about you,” Benny pointed out, stretching out a hand and dropping it on Sam’s thigh. “This alright?”

Sam had never blushed harder in his life. “Anything you want to do is fine.”

Benny frowned and finished their bag of blood, wiping their mouth with the back of their hand, chest hair glinting in the light. Sam couldn’t look away from it.

He’d never known he had a thing for chest hair.

Benny motioned towards Sam’s plate. “Finish up and we’ll go watch a movie, if that’s fine.”

Sam stuffed his mouth with chicken and stood up, ignoring Benny’s chuckles as he dragged them to the living room. He grabbed Snicker and flicked on the light, snuggling up to Benny’s side after they sat down. 

“Anything in particular you want to watch?”

Sam shook his head, slipping his hand up to run the tips of his fingers over Benny’s chest. His heart shivered and something warm sparked up in his gut.

Benny grunted and wrapped their arm around Sam’s shoulders, tracing their fingers over Sam’s tattoos. “Any reason for the tree?”

Sam rested his cheek on their chest, wiggling closer. Benny lifted him up as he twisted around to rest his back against the arm of the couch, Sam lying in the crook of Benny’s thick legs. Everything about Benny was thick. They were as big as a tree trunk and stronger than an ox. Sam loved it.

“Life and death. It’s a way to root myself to the earth, I guess.”

Benny nodded thoughtfully and brought their hand up to cradle Sam’s cheek. “Everyone needs an anchor,” they told him, and then bent forward to press their mouths together.

Fireworks burst inside Sam. He’d never felt like someone was holding him up and putting him back together like that. Something dark that had been swarming inside Sam’s brain was softened and soothed by the brush of stubble on Sam’s chin and cheek, by the soft press of warm lips against his own.

Benny smiled against his mouth and pulled back, blue eyes glittering in the reflection from the TV. 

For the first time in a long time, Sam felt like everything was going to be all right.

From the bedroom, Dean hollered, “No sex on my couch!”

Benny laughed and pressed another kiss to Sam’s forehead. Sam curled up almost on top of them and smiled, closing his eyes and falling asleep. Benny pet his hair, thick fingers stroking down the back of his neck.

He woke up a few hours later to see Benny looking down at him, a soft smile on their face.

“I should go home,” Benny murmured, sitting up, keeping their arms around Sam’s waist. “See you tomorrow?”

Sam smiled. “I still have a library to finish organizing.”

“Bright and early then, Winchester.”

“Gonna pick me up?”

Benny pressed another kiss to Sam’s mouth and stood up, pulling Sam up with them. “See you in the mornin’, sweetheart.”

Dean came out of the bedroom with a yawn as he dropped his plate into the sink. He handed Benny their empty cooler and watched Sam walk Benny to their car.

“No Frenching on the first date!” Dean called at them and grinned as Benny tangled their fingers in Sam’s long hair and tilted his head down to press a long kiss to Sam’s mouth.

Sam came back into the house, cheeks bright red and his eyes soft and lovely. Dean wrapped an arm around his shoulders and dragged him back to the couch, making a big show of looking the couch over.

“Doesn’t look like they did anything uncouth with my baby bro…gonna have to give Benny the ‘you hurt him and I gut you’ talk,” Dean mentioned with a thoughtful look on his face.

Sam snatched Snicker up from the floor where he’d fallen and elbowed Dean in the side. “You leave Benny alone!”

Dean grinned and tilted Sam’s head down to press a kiss to his forehead. “I’ll leave them alone as long as they don’t hurt you. Bed?”

Sam nodded. “Gotta get up early to meet Benny.”

Grinning, Dean pushed Sam towards the bedroom, flicking the lights off and double-checking the locks on the doors. “Make sure they keep it in their pants.”

Sam rolled his eyes and crawled in bed, curling up against Dean’s chest once he got under the covers after turning off their bathroom light. “Goodnight,” Sam muttered, closing his eyes, Snicker resting on the nightstand.

Dean whispered it back and closed his eyes.

Maybe Sam could date a vampire, but Dean was gonna keep an eye on them. He didn’t trust anyone else with Sam. Benny would have to earn that.

Dean had a feeling Benny would live up to his ridiculous expectations just fine.

Both Winchesters fell asleep with smiles on their faces.

**Author's Note:**

> a few notes...
> 
> i read through this a couple times and i'm pretty proud of it. i think i got all the spots where i accidentally used 'he' for benny instead of 'they' but if i missed any, please let me know. dean is a bit transphobic and misgenders benny a few times. sam also comes out to dean.
> 
> it took me a couple times to figure out how to write sam in this without him being completely incomprehensible. i tried to get him to a point where it was obvious to the reader that he had something going on upstairs but that it handled to the point where he could at least function in day-to-day life. he's intentionally a bit unreliable from the ptsd/short term memory lost/hallucinations, etc, but i feel like i was able to get across what i meant to say.
> 
> thanks for reading!


End file.
